Chicken A'la Brown
by Nautica7mk
Summary: Ephram cooks for the family… btw, this was my first fanfiction about Everwood. EM Story.


**Title**: Chicken A'la Brown

**Author**: Nadia Mack

**Summary**: Ephram cooks for the family… btw, this was my first fanfiction about Everwood.

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing. Don't sue.

The Brown House

Upon arriving home late after a long hard day at work, the smell of well-cooked food permeated the large house and for a brief moment, Andy Brown thought he entered the wrong home. Concluding that this house is indeed his, he spots Ephram in the kitchen. "Hmm -- smells good. What's cooking?" he asked, tiredly making his way to Ephram.

"Chicken cacciatore," said Ephram, looking up quickly before going back to work.

"Chicken dipped in white wine, with tomatoes, some peppers, onions, garlic, and good ol'fashioned mushrooms all simmering in the oven," he explained, thoughtfully. His father on the other hand was completely oblivious to his accomplishment.

"Wow," he commented, smelling the good aroma radiating out of the oven. Assuming something 'good or bad' happened, he turns to his son, a little concerned. "Did you and Madison have a fight?" he asked cautiously, at which point Ephram nearly cuts himself while he was chopping up some vegetables.

The question took Ephram completely off guard and he answered him with a resounding "No!"

"Where did that come from?" He questioned, multi-tasking as he's fixing up the salad and waiting for his father's response.

"Well -- I wasn't expecting a gourmet dinner, and I don't think Madison would set all this up unless something happened between you two"

He smiled warmly. "She didn't," he says, looking at his father. He nearly bit his tongue, and Madison thought he was dense.

Andy's mouth hung slightly open as he finally put the pieces together. Sitting on the stool, he paused for a moment, and then he looks back at Ephram. Pointing to him and the food and back to him again. 

"You..." Andy asked, pointing to Ephram. He nods. 

"You did..." words continued to fail for the renowned Dr. Brown as Ephram gives him another indication, that he indeed cooked dinner.

Still in disbelief. "Let me get this straight -- you cooked this?" He asked once more.

"Yes," replied Ephram. At this point, he was tempted to roll his eyes.

"By yourself?" Andy adds. This wasn't an ordinary meal where you take it out of the box and pre-heat for however long the label wants you to.

"Uh-umm"

"Without any help?" 

Nodding once more. "It would appear so, yes." Now his father was getting a little more irritating than usual.

"Who are you and what did you do to my son?" He asked suddenly. Ephram chuckles at his reaction.

"Madison and I have an arrangement," said Ephram. Andy looked at him curiously and he could tell Ephram was enjoying every minute of it.

Andy's ears perked up by the revelation. "An arrangement?" He sighed. This ought to be interesting.

"Yes"

"And that would be..." waiting for Ephram to finish.

"Relax dad -- She teaches me how to cook, I teach her the piano," explained Ephram. "All in all, it's mutually beneficial for all parties involved," he reflects nicely.

"Nobody keels over from food poisoning, Madison will be able to connect her lyrics to music when she's inspired, I'll actually have another skill to add to my repertoire," he tosses a carrot in his mouth and continues, "and did I mention that there's a low probability of food poisoning if you eat my cooking?" he adds sarcastically.

Andy hates it when Ephram gets all articulate like that. A constant reminder that once again he is no average sixteen-year-old.

"Oh, so one night --" Andy began.

"Week, actually," Ephram corrected, cutting him off.

"Oh, so one week of watching the food network and automatically you're a chef"

"Let's not over exaggerate, I'm no Martha Stewart -- I know you have your reservations when it comes to me and Madison, but believe it or not, we do more than make..." Ephram stopped himself before he went any further, realizing this was not the topic he wanted to discuss with his father.

Andy got the sign and he motioned that it was okay. "No need to go any further, Ephram," assured his father. "I do trust you; you know -- despite how I may feel about," Andy clears his throat for a second, "your relationship."

"Thanks," said Ephram gratefully. "Admit it though;" watching his father take a bite out of the just finished Italian dish, "I'm getting pretty good."

Andy couldn't help but smile as he took another bite. This is the sort of thing that they rarely do and he's very appreciative of being able to share it with him. He is growing up so fast. For the last couple of months since learning of his son's relationship with Madison, it was no secret that he didn't like it. Actually, he resented it from the beginning, but now, he himself has started to like the idea.

After finishing up the salad, Ephram moves past his dad to set the table as Andy watched him admirably. Just as he finished placing the last place mat, the doorbell rings. He runs over to answer it.

It was Madison.

Ephram leans against the doorframe; his left hand reaches out to caress her cheek, pulling her closer to him. Slowly sliding his two forefingers to cradle her chin, he leans in for a kiss, and Madison was more than eager to reciprocate. Time felt like it suddenly stopped, and there was no one else but them.

Their reverie came to an end when he feels a sudden thump on his chest. It took all the will power she had left to detach herself from Ephram's passionate kiss. She hands him her term paper. He looks down and takes it from her grasp, more than a little baffled. He looks at it as Madison quietly made her way to the living room, warming herself by the fireplace. Neither has yet to say a word.

Momentarily forgetting about the term paper he held in his hand, his eyes followed her across the room, and while he too followed her lead, he stood just a few feet away completely content just watching her.

Crashing down on the sofa, he watched her, the sight before him, watching the flames raging calmly across her features, he found it intoxicating. Reluctantly diverting his eyes from her, his gaze went back to her paper and noticed her grade.

He broke the silence. "Hey, will you look at that," he says playfully. He waves her paper in front of her. "An A minus, must be a helluva a paper."

She chuckled at his comment. "I should be thanking you for that," she says, slowly moving closer until she was just inches from him. 

Earlier this week, unbeknownst to her, Ephram had helped her with one of her term papers by jotting down notes and grammatical errors to sections that needed to be refurnished. For a guy who disliked doing homework, he comprehends the material very well.

"Certain forms of gratitude have crossed my mind," he says teasingly. He sat there for a few seconds before raising himself slowly until he was taller, their eyes never leaving one another.

Madison wrapped her arms around his neck and brushed one hand through his hair.

"Moonlight walks, romantic gifts, serenading me with classical music, and on top of that, a literary genius -- is there anything you don't do?" She whispered in his ear.

"Golf," he says softly with a grin.

She flashes him a bright smile, recalling the memory fondly of the first time Ephram, Delia, and she played miniature golf. He leans in again, but this time, a little slower. His lips just hovering before hers, waiting for her to initiate first. And just as their lips nearly met, she notices his father watching them from the kitchen.

"Your dad," she whispered again. Ephram realizing the same, he keeps his focus on her as she looks over his shoulder. "Good evening, Dr. Brown," she greeted formally.

"Madison," replied Dr. Brown.

Ephram sighed. "My life just keeps getting interesting," he whispered to himself. Madison laughed mildly hearing it. With their hands intertwined, "Come on," she insisted. "I'm famished." Excited to see what her boyfriend conjured up for dinner.

"Show me the way," Ephram uttered back joyfully as Madison kissed his cheek before leading him to the kitchen.

**The End**


End file.
